There will never be another player like Ray Anthony Lewis

Let’s take a moment to reflect on what Lewis has meant to this franchise, and this city.

It's fitting, in a way, that Lewis saved the Ravens from what would have been an embarrassing defeat today. Fitting because, even after 10 years, it's still a joy to watch him play football. In a year and a half of writing this blog/column, I've been pretty up front about the fact that it bugs me when people say he's as good as he's always been, and that he hasn't lost a step, because it's really not true. If you believe he's the same player he was when he was in his prime, I'm not sure you really understand football, especially defense.

But pointing that out does mean he's not a great player, or that I think he is any less fun, or fascinating, to watch. In fact, in some ways, I find him more fascinating now. He's still very good, and at times, great. I wish every person had the opportunity to stand next to him. Whatever you think of him, the man has a presence that's impossible to deny. I think people getting carried away sometimes playing up his mystique, insisting that he can will other players to achieve great things just by getting in their face. But when you stand four feet away from him and listen to him talk, you understand that there is at least some truth to the legend. Charisma has a definite energy to it, and love him or hate him, he has that charisma.

He's still probably the best linebacker in the game, and today's 15 tackles, a forced fumble, a sack and a pass deflection (that turned into an interception) proves that. It just doesn't look as easy as it once did. But there is a nobility to the struggle that I admire.

Watching a transcendent athlete will himself to compete at a high level even though he cannot do the magical things he once could, at least to me, is one of the best things about sports. In a way, once we reach a certain age, we're all fighting off the inevitable march of Father Time, whether we're athletes or artists, bankers or businessmen. We all wish we could combine the wisdom that comes with age with the endless possibilities of youth. But life doesn't work like that.

Watching Ray Lewis these days, at least for me, is a bit like watching Jack Nicklaus win the Masters in 1986, or Pete Sampras capture the U.S. Open in the final tournament of his career. It's like seeing Michael Jordan, in the twilight of his Bulls career, use a series of head fakes and fade away jumpers to score 50, even though the man guarding him might be quicker and younger.

In 2000, when Lewis was at the peak of his powers, it was a bit like watching a superhero. (Though admittedly not someone everyone loved, like Batman.) He closed ground faster than anyone, maybe faster than anyone in the history of the game. Watching him now is a bit like watching an aging warrior who refuses to yield to the inevitable. He gets lost in pass coverage, and can't quite get to the edge like he once could, but it's not for lack of trying. It's a bit sad to think about all the years of Lewis' prime that the Ravens wasted, simply because their offense was so inept. But you can't change the past, just like you fight off the future forever.

But with a combination of pride and savvy, wisdom and skill, you can fight it off for a while if you're an athlete like Ray Lewis. However long it lasts, and whatever you think about him personally, we should all feel fortunate to have witnessed the journey up close.

Click here to order Ray Lewis’s proCane Rookie Card.



(baltimoresun.com)